


So glad you could make it

by FancyTumbles (FancyTrinkets)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Adam brings Ligur back, Gen, He/Him Pronouns For Ligur (Good Omens), Ligur Lives (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25889836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyTrinkets/pseuds/FancyTumbles
Summary: When Ligur reappears, solid again and somehow undestroyed, his mouth is open wide and he's screaming out in rage and terror. He's also stuck behind a massive set of filing cabinets.
Relationships: Hastur & Ligur (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	So glad you could make it

Holy water cuts through a demon like acid through flesh. They sputter and writhe and then everything is gone. It would be elegant if it weren't so damned horrifying. 

Or if it were happening to someone else.

When Ligur reappears, solid again and somehow undestroyed, his mouth is open wide and he's screaming out in rage and terror. 

He's also stuck behind a massive set of filing cabinets.

He's back in Hell — he can tell by the damp, sticky feel of the metal against his fingertips, and by the putrefaction of the ceiling tile, which shakes loose and lands on him in foul, wet clumps as he strains against the wall to get free.

He's tired and out of sorts, and can't seem to call upon his powers to help him. So he shouts for a while, to see if anyone else can hear him — not that anyone would help him if they heard. It's a bad look, demons helping demons. But they'd at least have the indecency to stand around and laugh.

And even that would be welcome at this point. He's all alone, and properly stuck. 

He quiets down to rest a moment, and considers the idea of giving up completely. It's a tight fit between the wall and the filing cabinet, but as places go, it's no worse than any other spot in Hell. Suitable for a long nap. What finally agitates him into action is the sudden, unbidden memory of the way he died.

The image of Crowley's disgusting face flashes through his mind, followed by the searing pain of holy water. He reaches up to scrub it from his face, only to find that the sensation isn't real. It's just a flashback, the vivid memory of a wound that should have annihilated him, but somehow didn't. 

It's confusing. 

But one thing is clear. He's going to murder that self-righteous bastard Crowley. 

Ligur wrestles his way out from behind the cabinet and finds that the entire floor is deserted. But now he can hear the trample of heavy footsteps from above. Hell's ceilings have never been insulated. 

The elevator is unavailable, and appears to be rising, however improbably, to the off-limits upper floors of Heaven. So he finds a collapsing stairway and makes his way up. On the next floor, there's barely space to breathe. It's as though every denizen of Hell is crowded together and he has to push his way through. He moves forward resolutely, shoving aside the lesser demons even when he doesn't need to. It's fun to watch them collide and stumble. 

When he arrives at the front of the writhing masses, he finds a group of demons pressed up against a plexiglas window. Ligur elbows his way among them. It turns out they're all staring into a room with an empty bathtub. 

Dagon is shouting at them through the walls.

"Everyone out! Shows over. Nothing left to see here. Back to your posts!"

"What's all this, then?" he asks, but none of the others are answering. 

They can't seem to focus. Their eyes are wide and they're twitching more than usual. They look terrified.

"Guess I'll have to see for myself," he says, and he backs away from the window and heads for a side door that leads to the room with the tub. 

But _bless his dirty luck!_ — the door handle is broken. It won't turn and he fiddles with it angrily, trying to force it to behave.

And then suddenly, the door opens inward. 

Thrown off balance, Ligur lurches forward. His face smashes hard into Hastur, who reacts without thinking. He shoves Ligur back. 

And then, unexpectedly, Hastur's hand reaches out. He grabs at the grimy sleeve of Ligur's coat, catching him as he falls, and hauls him back up.

"You!" Hastur says. 

His eyes gleam with ungodly light and he smiles. It's horrible to look at — perfect and horrible, the worst of all possible faces. 

Ligur grins back at him, elated.

"What'd I miss?"

**Author's Note:**

> Revised ficlet from tumblr last year. Find me there @fancytrinkets.


End file.
